NOVEL: From Diamond to Coal, by Sol Crafter – Chapter One [science fiction]

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AUTHOR NOTE: This story begins in the future, then follows a chronological course through William and Alan’s life. This is not one of those stories that bounces backward and forward through time.
[In case you’ve heard me blab about this story before, I’ve changed the MCs name to “William Neeley” and switched the author to Sol Crafter, but that’s all.]

Audio: From Diamond to Coal – Chapter One
[powerpress]

CHAPTER ONE
At 27

 Trekking through the house seemed like some kind of never-ending journey, his feet dragging across the floor. He was getting the beginnings of a headache, one of those ones that hung just behind his right sinus and eye until he just wanted to cry. Not that it hurt that much, just that it was a never ending kind of pain.

He had some sympathy for van Gogh, though there was no way he was ever letting things get so out of control that he thought mutilation was a good idea. Not until he saw a doctor anyway.

“What’s with that look?” William demanded as soon as Alan came into the living room.

“Huh?” he asked intelligently. Alan felt off balance, sort of hanging between the open door and the room. He came the rest of the way in, closing the door behind him. He started to take off his jacket, keeping one eye on William the entire time.

Not that he ever wanted to look away from William. He was just so incredibly beautiful. Not handsome. BEAUTIFUL.

He was like poetry or something and there was no way Alan had ever done anything to make him worthy enough of that love. William was a good person through and through, and when combined with his awesome physical presence… he was like art and music and orgasms all rolled into one package.

William was standing on his knees, his crossed arms resting on the couch back. His black hair was a little tousled, probably from napping earlier, as there was a bit of puffiness around his dark brown eyes. His lips curved in amusement.

“You look like someone kicked you in the nuts. What’s wrong?”

Alan sighed and hung his jacket in the closet. “I’m getting a migraine. I just don’t feel like doing much of anything, but we’ve got to go to that thing tonight.”

William pursed his lips and glanced down at his watch. “Hm. Well, I can whip something up to take the edge off for you. I mean, I’m not a doctor or anything, but I do know a little something about chemistry.”

“Are you going to try and kill me?” Alan asked. He couldn’t help pressing the base of his palm against his brow bone. It felt like something was pushing in on his eye socket.

“No!”

“Oh, too bad. At this point I would probably welcome it if you went all homicidal. Anything to stop the pain in my head.” He walked over to the couch and flopped down next to William. He rested the side of his face against William’s hip. “I love you.”

William peered down at him, that little worry line appearing between his brows. “I love you too. You really do look horrible. Lie down and I’ll get you something to make you feel better.”

Alan groaned quietly, but he let William’s gentle hands guide him down on the couch so he was lying stretched out. He felt a bit disappointed that William immediately stood up afterward instead of snuggling with him, but he didn’t have the strength to object.

He closed his eyes and just tried to rest. He could hear William moving around, but his head hurt too much for curiosity.

Suddenly the cool edge of a glass was pressed cross-wise to his lips. “Here,” William said.

Alan opened his eyes a crack. William was kneeling in front of him holding a full glass of something pink and fizzy. “I don’t think so,” he said, taking one sniff. His nostrils burned.

“Uh uh,” William said, tugging on his arm until he was forced to sit halfway up. “You’re going to drink this. Then you can take a nap or whatever.”

Alan groaned, but knew he wasn’t going to win the argument. He started drinking.

It maybe tasted a bit fruity at first, then he got that awful medicine flavor. He wanted to stop drinking, but William was right there looking at him. He drank it all.

Passing the glass back into William’s hand, he pressed a fist against his chest. There was a definite fizzing sensation going on. “That was horrible,” he said, then barely muffled a belch with his other hand.

“Yeah, probably. But how do you feel?” William quirked an eyebrow.

Alan had to admit, “Better. I feel a lot better. My headache’s almost all the way gone and I don’t feel quite as much like I’m going to die.” He smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” William gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then stood up. “You rest a while, I’m going to go grab Morgan. We really should spend some time together as a family before we have to go to that thing tonight. I just always feel so bad when we don’t get to have dinner with him.”

“Okay,” Alan said, lying back down.

He closed his eyes and heard William walk away.

He didn’t know how he’d done it, but Alan Trent knew he was the luckiest man on Earth.

* * *

Giving Morgan’s door a soft tap, he pushed it open.

William couldn’t help laughing at the sight in front of him.

Morgan was wearing a purple tunic with a gold belt at the waist, brown curly toed shoes, and a crown on his head. He was wearing his most arrogant expression and looked really cute with one foot propped on the frame of the bed and holding a plastic sword in his left hand.

Byron was kneeling in front of him with a frightened look on his face as he cringed away from the cruel tyrant. He was wearing a dark brown jerkin over his regular clothes and had pulled a lumpy looking hat down on his head.

They were an evil prince and a downtrodden peasant.

From the weary expression on Byron’s face, they had been playing for a while. Still, he would happily play for hours more without complaining.

“What’s going on here?” William leaned against the door frame.

On seeing him, Byron hastily removed the jerkin and tossed it on the bed. He knocked the hat off when he tried to rake his hand through his brown hair, then had to twist around to catch it. “We were just playing evil tyrant.”

Morgan turned in surprise. “Daddy!”

Morgan was seven, a tiny elfling of a boy with straight black hair and serious blue eyes. Byron was twenty-nine, tall and muscular and trying to brush the wrinkles out of his dove gray suit jacket. He looked embarrassed at being caught playing make-believe.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my little Mordred,” William said, standing up straight and holding his arms open. “Aren’t you going to give me a hug?”

Morgan grinned and ran across the room to wrap his skinny arms tight around William’s waist. “We were having fun,” he said. “Byron’s my serf. He has to do whatever I say or I’m going to take his land away.”

William made a mock-disapproving face. “I don’t know if I like that game. Should you be being mean to him?”

“It’s not real,” Morgan said, grabbing hold of William’s belt loops and leaning backward. “I would never really be mean to Byron like that. He’s my friend.”

William braced himself to keep from going over. “Well, that’s good. Your dad’s out there waiting for you. I said we would hang out together.”

Morgan’s face brightened. “Dad’s not too busy tonight?”

William bit his lip. He hated the fact that Alan’s position kept him from spending very much time with Morgan. It just didn’t seem fair.

“Why don’t you go wash up real quick? Your dad’s waiting for us,” he said.

“Okay!” Morgan ran off toward the bathroom attached to his bedroom. There was some clattering, then the sound of water running.

William looked at Byron. “Thank you for keeping him entertained.”

Byron shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. He’s a funny kid.”

“Yeah, he kind of is.” William smiled fondly as Morgan stepped out of the bathroom. His face was still a bit wet and his hair was standing up on one side from his crown.

William ran a hand over Morgan’s head when the boy came to stand next to him. “Let’s go see your dad.”

They walked hand-in-hand into the living room with Byron trailing behind them.

William had gotten used to having bodyguards around at all times. It was one of those things that just kind of happened when you made your first billion dollars.

And now that Alan was the President of the United States… there was never a moment where they could just be alone.

 

It took a couple of finger prods from William, but Alan rolled off the couch and he definitely looked much better than he had when he first walked in. He was able to pull Morgan down on his lap and give him the big hug and smile he deserved.

“And how has your day been?” Alan asked.

Morgan shrugged. “Same old, same old.”

“Really?” Alan raised an amused eyebrow at William, who shrugged. He didn’t know where the kid got it from. “Well, my day could have gone better, but it was pretty all right too.”

“But you’ve gotta go to a thing tonight?” Morgan asked.

“Yeah,” Alan sounded tired. “I don’t want to go, but they make me. It’s either go to the thing, or they’re going to come after me.”

“You’re pretty silly,” Morgan said.

Alan laughed. “You’re calling me silly? Hello, I’m the President of the United States of America. You’re supposed to respect my authority.”

“Nuh uh,” Morgan said, crossing his arms. “You’re my dad. You’re not allowed to be mean to me or Daddy will give you trouble.”

William snorted. “You make me sound like some kind of Grinch or something.”

“Because you are!” Morgan exclaimed, then giggled and shrieked helplessly when Alan began to tickle him around the ribs and belly.

William leaned against the edge of the couch, watching them. Alan had to hold Morgan tightly to try and control the boy’s flailing legs as he tickled him. They were both laughing and William felt an ache in his chest.

He wished they could have more moments like this, but the world always seemed to get in the way. The sad thing was that Morgan was just getting older and older with everyday that passed by and someday soon he would be too old to play around. At least, he would think he was too old to play.

William knew that Alan regretted not being able to spend as much time as he wanted with Morgan, so he tried to make up for it, but there were just times when Morgan really missed his dad.

“Hey, Dad,” Morgan said after they’d calmed down and were sitting side-by-side, “do you like being the President?”

Alan sighed. “When I agreed to be the interim Vice-President, it was just supposed to be until Ben found someone else. No one thought he was going to die. But I took the job he offered, so I’m kind of obligated to do it.”

“I’m sorry,” Morgan said, giving him a quick hug. “He was your friend, huh?”

“Yeah,” Alan said. “He was my friend.”

“It’s sad that he’s dead. You’re not going to die too, right?” Morgan asked. “Those bad people aren’t going to kill you, right? We’re not going to let that happen?”

William bit his lip and clenched his hands into fists against the sides of his thighs. He hated the fact that Morgan had to worry about assassins and hate groups, especially since the boy didn’t really understand what he was fearing. All he knew was that President Benjamin Hale had been killed and there were people out there threatening to do the same thing to his dad.

“We’re not going to let that happen,” Alan said quietly. He put his arm around Morgan’s shoulder and drew him close against his side. “That’s why we have the Secret Service. They’re there to keep us safe.”

“Okay,” Morgan said. He perked up suddenly. “Do you want to play a video game with me? I’ve got that new puzzle one.”

“Sure, I’ll play,” Alan agreed.

William hid his grimace at the thought of the video game. It was one of those boring search-and-find games. There was a list of objects and a picture they were supposed to be picked out of. How Morgan could love them so much was a mystery, but at least he wasn’t hot to play shoot-’em-up killer games. He just wanted to play his old man game.

“I’ll just watch, okay?” William said.

“Sure, Daddy,” Morgan said, not looking at him as he set up the game on the big screen. “Me and Dad are going to have fun.”

“Yeah, fun,” Alan said, so falsely enthusiastic that William gave him a mock-warning finger wag. It made Alan laugh.

Watching the two people he loved the most in the world play together, William couldn’t help wondering how he and Alan had managed to create such a wonderful kid. He must have added a bit too much of Alan’s DNA to the mix, that was the only explanation.

/ End Chapter

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